


Billy's Turn

by ObscuredByLoss



Series: Upside-down vampires [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, It's going to get dark but not too much promise, M/M, Monsters, Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant, Pining, Post-Season/Series 02, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-01-10 20:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscuredByLoss/pseuds/ObscuredByLoss
Summary: Steve’s been through hell, more than once. Through some twist of fate he's managed to make it out the other side unscathed. Not everyone is as lucky.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of the series. You should probably read part one first. Also, I left off some tags so I wouldn't spoil anything. I'll probably add more as time goes on.
> 
> I'm going to try and post every two weeks but I can't make any promises.

Steve stared at the ceiling. The textured white paint seemed to form different shapes. A fish there, a cat here, sometimes a rocket. Sometimes a flower petal face full of teeth. He'd been sitting in his bed and staring at the ceiling for an hour. At least he thought it'd been an hour. He hadn't checked the clock.

He was dreading getting up. Getting up meant confronting things. It meant what had happened last night, with Billy, was real.

 _Pretty boy_.

“Ugh!” Steve grunted in frustration throwing a pillow over his head. Why couldn't he just go back to sleep?

_I can make you feel so good._

Steve clenched his eyes shut tighter.

Things had been normal again! At least as close to normal as they ever got for Steve. Why'd Billy have to take that away from him? Why couldn't he have just been normal?

He could picture Billy's smirking mouth, dangerous blue eyes, and crown of golden curls. Billy was a lot of things, but normal certainly wasn't one of them.

He'd left the blonde downstairs. After the awkward and stilted attempt at conversation after...well, after the fellatio, Steve had thrown a few pillows and blankets at him before retreating to his own room knowing when Billy was drunk he preferred to crash on the couch instead of navigating the stairs to the spare bedroom. Steve'd tossed and turned in frustrated agony for hours before finally drifting off and dreaming of eyes as bright as the sky.

Billy was still down there, waiting for him. He was probably laughing at Steve. Maybe it wasn’t even a big deal in California? Maybe guys just did that to each other, to relieve tension or something?

Steve got the mental image of Billy on his knees, some blurry faced, tanned man standing above him, fingering his curls. Something thorny and green curled tight in Steve’s gut at the image. No, it wasn’t a Californian thing. Billy must just be...he had to be...Steve gulped. That didn’t mean Steve was... _that_...he wasn’t. I mean, it was fine if Billy was.

Steve hadn’t _liked_ it.

He could feel the ghost of Billy’s lips pressed against his. He rubbed at them harshly.

Anyone would respond if their dick was getting sucked! He was drunk, it didn’t mean anything.

So Billy was queer, that was fine.

It was!

Things didn’t have to change. Billy was his best friend, had been for the last four months. They’d celebrated his graduation together, ditching the lame house party to just spend the time by themselves. When he found out about Steve’s nightmares he’d offered to teach him how to fight. Which was a little insulting honestly, it’s not like he didn’t get a few good shots in last time they’d fought. But still, it’d helped. Maybe it was just the thought of someone having his back, but he’d been able to actually close his eyes without getting trapped in those tunnels or transforming into a monster every night. Billy was still his friend, even if he was a fag.

Steve sighed heavily. There was no sense in delaying it any longer, it’s not like he could run from it. Besides, he’d given up running away a long time ago. He groaned and pushed himself out of bed.

“Billy?” Steve asked tentatively as he walked down the stairs. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. This was ridiculous, he shouldn't feel nervous to talk to his best friend. “Billy?” He said with slightly more confidence.

Nothing.

Steve made his way to the last step and looked around. The blanket he'd given Billy last night was thrown haphazardly on the floor. He'd left. Steve let out a gust of breath and collapsed onto the couch. The empty whiskey bottle taunted him from the floor.

They could figure things out later. It's not like he had to go looking for Billy. He probably didn't want to talk about it any more than Steve did.

It was summer. He didn't have to be anywhere until he needed to pick Dustin from Science Camp. He was allowed to not think about his problems for at least a couple hours. Of course, when he went to pick him up Billy would be there for Max. Asking for more than a few hours to process would just be selfish, right? Steve collapsed onto the vacant couch and let his head tip back once again finding himself staring at the ceiling dread curling in his gut.

* * *

 

Dustin shuffled a little closer to the rest of the Party. They’d broken off from the rest of the kids at the Hawkins High School run science camp for lunch. The camp was the easiest way for them to all meet during the day without their parents worrying about what they were up to. It had the added benefit, in Dustin’s opinion at least, of giving them access to the High School’s science classrooms. Ever since Steve’s brush with demogorgon transformation Dustin had been trying to figure out what had happened. He’d brought a small container of the liquid Steve had thrown up. They were supposed to be preparing slides and learning how to use a microscope today and he was determined to get a look at it. Dustin slid his hand into his pocket. His fingers brushed the smooth plastic of the small tupperware container he’d brought.

“That’s good, El. You’re doing great!” Mike said.

He’d been encouraging El to practice using her powers. After she’d told him about her sister Kali and Pittsburgh he’d been determined to help her reach her full potential. Dustin thought it was mostly because Mike wanted to prove El didn’t need Kali. El sat across from Mike her headband pulled down over her eyes as she scrunched a crease between her eyebrows. She was manipulating a single blade of grass and trying to tie it into a knot. Mike had argued that Kali had only taught her how to move large objects. He’d said that finesse and fine control was more important than being able to move a train car. Dustin wasn’t sure he agreed. After all, Luke Skywalker had to lift a whole X-wing on Dagobah.

“Dustin brought the Demogorgon juice.” El removed her headband and looked at him as she wiped away a trickle of blood from under her nose. Since she’d been trying to learn finer control over her powers she’d started reading their minds more. She’d told Mike it helped her focus and that sometimes she couldn’t help it. None of them really minded that much. Friends don’t lie.

“Dustin!” Lucas shouted

“I just wanted to look at it under a microscope okay! It’s not like I have one at home. I was going to be careful!”

“Everyone back to the classroom!” A teacher shouted from the doorway leading to the scattered outdoor tables most of the students had chosen to eat their lunches at.

“Just don’t touch it, alright? I really don’t want to deal with a Demogorgon Dustin.” Max smiled and poked him in the side as she stood up to go rejoin the rest of the students.

The Party filed into the classroom taking their spots by their microscopes. There weren’t enough for everyone to get their own but thankfully they’d been allowed to choose their partners. Dustin and Will sat together as they watched the teacher.

“Alright, today I’m going to teach you how to prepare a microscope slide. In front of each pair is an unidentified sample. You’ll each make your own slides from the sample and then you need to try and identify what it is based on the pictures in the handouts I gave you.” The teacher reached down and pulled out a microscope slide. “What you want to do is take the small plastic pipettes at your tables, dip it into your samples like so, then make sure to only put one drop onto your slide. You want the specimen to only be one cell level thick and spread out, otherwise it’ll be too difficult to see any detail. Then you’re going to want to take a glass coverslip, like this.” The teacher gently grabbed a thin sliver of rectangular glass between his index finger and thumb and held it at an angle against the edge of the slide so only one side was touching. “Then you want to slowly lower it until the two pieces of glass are flush together. Be careful not to get any air bubbles between the two. Finally, press the edges of the slide to a paper towel, like so, to remove any excess fluid and you’re ready to go. Okay, you may begin. If you need any help or have any questions just raise your hand and I’ll be over shortly.”

“High School science camp is way better than Middle School.” Will said as he flipped through the pages of their print out looking through the illustrations of different microorganisms. Dustin dug the small plastic container out of his pocket and began to unscrew the lid.

The door to the classroom opened unexpectedly. Dustin shoved the container back in his pocket his heart beating a little faster. Another teacher, one he’d seen around camp with one of the other student groups walked in. She gestured for their teacher to step outside the classroom with her. They were only in the hallway for a second before the door opened again.

“Maxine Hargrove, please gather your things and follow Mrs. Ackers. Your mother is here to pick you up.” The teacher said, their tone deliberately neutral.

Max looked around at the other members of the Party her gaze landing fixedly on El. She just shrugged the same confused, worried expression present there as in all of them. She packed up her things and turned to leave but before she could Lucas’ hand grabbed hers giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting their fingers slip apart and letting her leave.

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully. Dustin managed to get a look at the Demogorgon fluid while Will prepared a slide from the science camp provided sample, but whatever it was it didn’t match any of the illustrations in the hand out. He doodled his own sketch on the back of one of the sheets and snuck it into his backpack along with the slide wrapped in a swath of paper towel and pressed between the pages of one of his textbooks. The Party split up after camp was over. Most of the kids chose to bike home. Dustin like to have Steve pick him up. His house was a little further from the school anyway and his mom always preferred it. After Will had gone missing she worried about him a lot more.

Steve’s red car sat parked along with the parents of several other students’ parents along the sidewalk at the entrance. Dustin ran over and pulled open the passenger side door. It had been a little weird spending time with Steve after what had happened in March. Things had felt strained for a while. Steve acted uncomfortable around him and Dustin had to admit he hadn’t been able to look at the teen the same but things had calmed back down in the four months since. Everyone was finally confident that whatever had happened it was done. No one was really able to explain exactly why Steve had changed back seemingly on his own, least of all Steve himself. Even if they had known, no one told Dustin much of anything. The lack of closure had made it feel like unfinished business at first, like on any random day Steve was going to change back and try and kill them all again. The rest of the Party still sort of felt like that, except for Max. Max and Dustin were the only ones who felt comfortable around Steve. It had taken Dustin a bit of time and a lot of contemplation to get over his initial hesitance. Now when he thought about it he felt even safer around Steve. He’d come to the conclusion that while Steve was infected he’d had every possible reason to attack them. He’d come immeasurably close, but he’d _still_ been able to stop himself. That must mean he was strong, incredibly strong. His unbroken will had ultimately strengthened Dustin’s trust in him and their friendship. Dustin figured it was only a matter of time before the rest of the Party came to their senses.

“Hey, Dustin. How was camp?” Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair and smiled at him but the almost freshman could tell he was distracted. “Where’s Max? I didn’t see her leave with you guys.”

“Science camp is so much fun. We got to work with microscopes today.” Dustin’s hand tightened on the strap of the backpack at his feet. He didn’t want to tell Steve he was experimenting with the Demogorgon fluid. It was obvious the graduate wanted to forget that anything had ever happened and talking about it was only going to upset him.

“Cool.” Steve said although Dustin highly doubted he meant it.

“Max got picked up early by her mom today. It was really weird.”

“Susan picked her up early?”

“Yeah she came right after lunch. I was going to try and reach her over the radio when I got home. Hey, Steve, what happened to your neck?”

“What?”

“You’ve got a bruise right...here.” Dustin poked at a spot right under Steve’s jaw. Realization and panic flitted across Steve’s face before he clamped a hand down over the spot.

“Nothing! Nothing happened! Don’t worry about it.” Steve rubbed at his jaw with his hand his cheeks reddening.

* * *

 

Steve left the parking lot and ferried Dustin home. He waved goodbye to him and Mrs. Henderson from the car before pulling away. He rubbed again at the hickey on his neck annoyed. Of course Billy had to go and leave a mark, that asshole. It was weird he wasn’t there to pick Max up today. Even weirder that Susan had pulled Max out of summer camp. As far as Steve knew Billy was the only person who’d ever picked Max up. The more Steve thought about it the more worried he became. What had happened that Billy wasn’t able to get Max?

Nervous worry gnawed at the pit of Steve’s stomach until he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He may not want to confront Billy about last night but if he couldn’t just pretend that nothing was wrong with this situation. Ignoring things had never really worked out for him in the past.

His mind made up Steve turned his car around and started heading over to the Hargrove’s. He’d only been there a handful of times to drop Max off when Billy had asked him to. He’d never really been inside. After what he’d figured out about Billy’s dad he’d tried to have as little exposure to the man as possible. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from doing something, or saying something, for and extended period of time and he knew that would just make Billy mad. Still, it was inevitable that he’d met the man. Steve had forced himself to be cordial, to shake the hand of his best friend’s tormentor. It had felt like shaking hands with the devil, like something cold and slimy had slithered onto his palm. He’d only just been able to keep from curling his lip in disgust and turn the reflex into a broken smile. It’d hurt to act like he was pleased to meet the man but he didn’t want to unintentionally cause Billy any more problems.

Steve pulled onto Billy’s street silently hoping Neil wouldn’t be home and he could just talk to Max, or Billy, although he was still hoping he’d be able to avoid that.

Steve pulled his car onto the side of the road. He stumbled out of the driver’s side door one house away from the Hargrove’s not wanting to comprehend what he saw. There was a line of three cop cars pulled up to the front of the house. There was, _Christ_ , there was crime scene tape across their front porch. Steve’s feet stumbled forward. He had to get inside. He had to find out what happened. Oh god, what if Neil found out what they’d done last night? What if he’d finally snapped and killed his son?

“Hey! Hey, where do you think you’re going?” One of the uniformed officers shouted from the front lawn. Two of them had been standing beside one of the patrol cars talking amongst themselves. Steve ignored them, he needed to get inside. He needed to see. “Hey!”

“Billy!” Steve shouted as he started to run to the entrance. He had to know.

He shoved past the flimsy plastic tape ripping it in two and pushed open the front door. His unsteady feet thumped against the polished wood floor. As soon as he was inside he stopped abruptly. He could feel his throat closing up and his legs shook. There was a hand, rough and large, a thick gold ring adorning it’s finger. There was blood. “Billy?”

“Steve?!” Hopper got up from a crouch. He’d been hunched over the still figure on the ground, inspecting it. “You have to get out of here, kid.” His voice was firm but Steve could still hear a slight waver. He tried to block Steve’s sight as he approached.

“Where’s the ambulance? Why isn’t there an ambulance?!” Steve’s voice cracked with distress. Hopper reached the teenager and wrapped his arms around him shuffling him backwards out of the room in his embrace all the while trying to block his view.

“You shouldn’t see this, kid. You have to go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Graphic violence in this chapter.

“Billy!” The front door banged open with an angry snap. Neil stormed into the house anger sharp in the worn lines of his face. “Billy! I know you’re here, you left your car in the drive. Don’t try and hide from me now, boy!”

Billy flinched awake at the grating shouts. He groaned rolling onto his side and curling into a tight ball. He felt terrible, his stomach clenched painfully. He clutched it and grit his teeth. He didn’t think he’d had that much to drink at Steve’s last night, just a few glasses of whiskey. Enough to finally give him the courage to make a move.

Oh fuck, he’d kissed Steve last night. More than that, he’d sucked him off, made him cum. Billy’s lips tingled and he flicked his tongue across them. He'd had to leave after that, he couldn't stand the thought of seeing Steve's rejection and disgust in the morning after the liquor'd worn off.

“Billy!” Neil stomped through the house. He was almost at his son’s room. _Shit_. Billy’d really be in for it if his dad found him like this. Billy tried to get up but crumpled in on himself as a wave of pain radiated out of his stomach. He grunted in agony. His throat was so dry.

The door to his room swung open with force smacking against the drywall, the doorknob surely denting it. Billy clutched his stomach, his fingers digging into his skin as if he could pull the pain from his own body.

“You lazy piece of shit. Do you think you can just lie in bed all day? You think you can just skip summer school and I won’t find out?” Neil stormed across the room grabbing Billy by the hair and hauling him out of bed. “They called me at work! You know how embarrassing that is?” Neil pulled at Billy, drawing him out of the room and near throwing him against the back of the sofa in the living room. “I had to come here on my lunch break just to drag your sorry ass out of bed!”

“I’m sick!” Billy shouted from the floor still clutching at his stomach as another wave of pain shot out through his entire body.

“You’re going to class! I will not have a high school dropout in this family. Now get up!” Neil yelled at his son still lying on the ground. Billy clenched his eyes shut against the ripples of pain. He was breathing heavily, willing his body to get up, to obey his father knowing what would happen if he didn’t, if he couldn’t. He managed to push himself up on one shaky arm. He looked up at his father standing over him, sweat dripped down the side of his face.

“I can’t.” He said quietly, hesitantly.

“You will get up!” Neil reached down and grabbed a rough fistful of Billy’s hair lifting him up by the straining follicles. Billy cried out and just barely managed to get his feet under him as his father pulled. “You will go to class!”

Neil shoved Billy against the wall holding him there with a harsh hand on his neck. He punched Billy in the side. His fist was hard, the barbs of his knuckles dug into soft flesh. Neil’s wedding ring stabbed into Billy’s rib with a sharp pain. Billy screamed, the combined pain all-encompassing. Neil punched again, aiming for his son’s already agonized gut. He connected with a thud then he let Billy go, let him double over against the wall, barely standing. Billy’s hair fell in a curtain over his face as he panted there against the wall, hands wrapped protectively over his stomach. He sucked in harsh lungfuls of air.

“Get dressed, now.” Neil pointed to Billy’s room impatiently, but Billy didn’t move. He was still leaning pitifully against the wall. “I said now!” Neil reached for his son again, ready to motivate him into action the only way he knew how.

His hand never touched his son.

As soon as Neil started to move Billy's own hand shot out, gripping his father’s arm with blistering force.

“Billy, I’m warning you!”

Billy didn’t respond. He just held his father’s arm away from him for a moment, motionless.

Then several things happened at once. Billy pulled Neil’s arm towards him and he stood up from his hunched state. The sudden movement caught Neil by surprise and he was easily pulled forward, the force was so great that even if he’d tried to resist he knew he wouldn’t have been able to.

Neil’s body collided with Billy’s against the wall and Billy, reacting purely on rage and instinct, pulled his father’s head aside and sunk his teeth into his neck. Neil shouted in shock more than pain. He’d never dreamed of his son fighting back, much less whatever was happening now. Billy growled deep in his chest and ripped into the throat at his teeth harder. Neil’s legs buckled beneath him. His arms flailed as he fell.

Billy landed on top of him and held him into the ground. Neil’s legs kicked desperately, panic seizing him now. Billy’s jaws connected with a dull click, a thick strip of flesh caught between them. He threw his head to the side tearing it free with a wet snapping sound. Blood shot out of the gaping hole spurting in a wide arc across the floor. Billy spit out the flesh and sinew bending back down to lap at the wound he’d created.

Blood burbled and gargled out of Neil's mouth. His throat clicked and his lips moved, tongue wagging uselessly behind them. Whatever he was trying to do whether it was to plead for his life, curse his son's name one last time, or even beg for forgiveness was lost as his last breath wheezed out of the gaping hole where his windpipe used to be.

Billy tore and bit, widening and deepening the contusion, drawing more blood to the surface. His teeth gnawed, his tongue licked, and his lips sucked at the ever deeper ragged gash. It wasn’t long before the flow was slowing, turning sluggish. Billy's jaws snapped down harder crunching through fleshy resistance as he sought after more, more of that taste.

A shrill shriek and the shattering of glass broke the not quite silence of his feasting. His jaws unlatched with a sickly squish of meat. He turned his head, blood still dribbling out of his mouth to see Susan standing just inside the doorway. She'd dropped a full bag of groceries, an apple was still rolling across the wood floor and a shattered jar of pickles spilled its juice. Her hand was raised to her mouth as if just realizing her involuntary shout had drawn unwanted attention.

“Susan!” Billy said in alarmed surprise, flecks of blood flinging off his stained lips, his voice shaking her out of her stupor. She turned and fled. Her flat, polished shoes slapping against the sun-baked concrete of their front walkway. “Susan, wait!”

Billy got up from his crouch and ran after her sticking his hand out as if to grab her. He had no idea what he was going to do if he actually caught her. He reached the doorway ready to pursue but shrunk back at the blinding light. It stabbed at his retinas. He cried out and staggered back from the doorway into the shadows. He blinked rapidly willing the bright spots in his vision to subside. It didn't take long before they cleared and with their passing came the dawning weight of what happened. The oppressive weight of it hung about his shoulders like the wooden crosspiece of a crucifix.

He turned, his body reacting without his input. His gaze settled on the still figure on the floor. His father's body stared back at him, eyes glassy and lifeless. Blood spread wide, smeared into the wood by greedy hands, his greedy hands. Oh god, why'd he look?

_Murderer_

Billy's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. He felt nauseous. His breath sped up, he could feel sweat start to bead on his brow and the hairs on his neck stand up. He was panicking. Involuntarily his tongue flicked out to caress his lower lip. The normally comforting tick only served to drive his panic on as he tasted his father's blood on his mouth.

Billy ran past the grisly scene stepping wide of the still-spreading puddle. There was so much of it, so much blood. Billy's mouth watered, the taste still thick on his tongue. It was everywhere.

He ran to the bathroom. He turned on the lights unthinking and was starkly confronted by the image he made. Thick red rivers had soaked through the cloth of his shirt congealing into deep pools holding the fabric to his chest uncomfortably. The feeling wasn't unlike sweat but the longer it stayed drying and coagulating the thicker and tackier it got. It was sticking to his skin. The bright red had just started to fade, turning a dark crimson.

The worst part, by far, was his face. Gore clung to his every pore painting his skin in shades of slaughter. There was more than just blood though. He'd attacked with rage and hate, ripping into his prey with inhuman strength and no restraint. Gristle and flesh had been torn free and flecks now hung from Billy's visage like peeling wallpaper. He looked savage, a cannibal.

_Murderer_

Billy pulled at the Hem of his shirt ripping it over his head and scrubbed his face with the cleanest part of the fabric so hard his skin felt raw. But he could still feel the taste lingering thick in his mouth. His stomach lurched, roiling around his insides but refusing to purge. He coughed a few times over the sink spitting out pink tinged phlegm. When it was clear nothing was coming up he ran the tap, gulping the clear water, willing it to clean his insides, purify them somehow. It couldn't, he'd never be clean again. The skin on his chest still felt gummy and stained. He really needed a shower.

He didn't have time for this! Susan was going to the cop's, they could be here any minute. He thought about how quickly Steve's friends had turned on him when he was infected, willing to put a bullet in his brain for their own peace of mind. The comparison wasn't arbitrary, Billy knew what this was. Steve had contaminated him, passed along his curse.

Only, Steve hadn't killed anyone. Even when Steve had hated Billy he'd had enough self-control to keep from killing him. Billy thought about the determination in Nancy's eyes when she'd hefted a rifle at the boy she used to love. Hell, the cop had threatened Billy before he'd even known something was wrong.

Billy didn't have the luxury of confiding in someone. Anyone he might have been able to go to, one of the few who could understand what was happening to him, would probably shoot him before he could get a word in. That asshole cop was probably halfway to his house by now.

“Shit!” Billy shouted into the dead air, smashing his fist against the porcelain cracking it. He kept muttering a litany of curses under his breath. This whole thing was fucked. He grabbed a dirty towel off the floor wetting it under the faucet and tried to scrub as much blood off his chest as possible. He stripped off the rest of his clothes. No point in trying to conceal anything. Susan had seen him. _Fuck!_ She'd seen him ripping his dad's throat out. Billy paused a second pressing his palms to his eyes, hard, until dots danced behind his eyelids. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. Once. Twice.

Okay, he had to get moving. He ran to his room. His eyes stayed level, he was careful where he looked. He didn't want to see it again, that hollow face, those unblinking eyes. He could still smell it though. It smelled hot and wet and tangy, just on the right side of bitter and salty. Billy held his breath.

He pulled the worn, leather duffel bag he always kept half packed out from under his bed. He threw in the entirety of his underwear and sock drawer. He pulled out the top drawer of his dresser reaching underneath the plywood to release the envelope he'd taped to the underside. Just over five hundred. He could make that last. Then he threw on the least eye-catching outfit he owned and his sunglasses. When he'd chased Susan the sun had hurt his eyes but it hadn't burnt his skin. Maybe it was early enough in his infection that he could still go out in the light if he was careful. Billy grabbed his denim jacket pulling it over his shirt, buttoned all the way up for the first time in his life, any shielding from the sun couldn't hurt. He finished packing up and hefted the bag onto his shoulder.

Billy looked back one last time, eyeing the room he'd called home for roughly a year and felt a pang in his chest. For what, he wasn't quite sure. He hated this house, this jigsaw puzzle family where he always felt like the wrong piece, never quite fitting into his place. Billy turned back around his eyes glancing over the still form on the ground but making sure they didn't get stuck. He left through the back door.

He drove down the road the sun still glaring at him through his heavily tinted glasses. He had to squint but at least he hadn't changed so much that he'd burn, yet. _Fuck_. He needed to get out of here, he needed help. Billy cringed at the thought. Every other time he'd felt this way he'd gone to Steve, just being around him had helped. He was the only person who could possibly understand what was happening to him, how it felt. Billy's mind flooded with images and sensations, Steve moaning and gasping, the soft press of his lips, the caress of his tongue. Billy's tongue flicked his own bottom lip in remembered sensation.

Would Steve even take him in? He was a faggot and a murderer.

Cold, blank blue eyes stared out at Billy from his memory. He slammed on the brakes, tires screeching, as he skidded to the shoulder of the empty road. He let the car idle in park as he closed his eyes and tried to will his heart to slow down.

 _He deserved it! He beat his son within an inch of his life again and again._ Billy pulled his lips back in an ugly snarl. _That son of a bitch deserved what he got!_

Billy's eyes felt hot and the back of his throat felt thick. He rubbed at his tightly clenched eyelids and his fingers came away wet.A sob slipped past his lips and a hot tear streaked down his cheek. _He deserved it._


	3. Chapter 3

“Steve! Kid, you with me?” Hopper grasped Steve’s shoulders tightly all but shaking the teenager out of his stupor.

“Sorry, Chief, the kid slipped right past us.” Hopper just barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the incompetence of his subordinates.

“It’s fine, just give us a second. Why don’t you check in with the coroner? Ask him what’s taking so goddamn long.” The two officers walked off, supposedly doing as instructed.

“Hop, was that…?”

“Neil.” A shuddering breath gushed out of Steve then. His previously rigid back buckled like overstressed steel and his shaking hands pressed into his forehead.

“Billy?” Steve asked hesitantly, face still hidden behind his palms.

“Gone. Listen, we can’t discuss this here.” Hopper cast a glance over his shoulder at the two officers who’d accompanied him. “I’ll drive you home. We can talk in the car and no offence, kid, but you’re in no condition to get behind the wheel.”

“But my ca-”

“I’ll have an officer drop it off later today.” Steve just nod his head and handed over his keys, his mind still fuzzy with shock.

“I’m going to give Harrington a ride back home.” Hopper shouted at the other officers, “Make sure no one _else_ contaminates the crime scene while I’m gone, okay?” The two men waved off his worries and bid him goodbye. Hopper gave Steve’s shoulder what he hoped was a comforting squeeze before shuffling him inside his car and turning the engine over.

“What happened, Hop?” The Chief’s lips thinned as he pressed them together trying to figure out the best way to say it. Steve still wasn’t looking at him. His hands had started to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Jim couldn’t be sure but he thought Steve might already know what he was about to say.

“He’s got the same thing, the same disease, you had. At least that’s what it looks like.” Steve’s fingers froze in their ministrations.

“He killed Neil?”

“In front of Susan.” Steve’s head shot up at that staring at the side of Hopper’s. Susan had picked up Max early from camp. Had they both gone home to see Billy... _eating_ Neil? Oh god, did he go after them?

“Susan and Max, are they...?” He couldn’t bring himself to complete the question. It was too horrific to even think.

“She’s fine, they’re both fine. Susan came home from shopping to find Billy with Neil’s throat between his teeth.” Steve flinched and looked out the window. “She got away. Said he chased her to the doorway but didn’t follow her to her car for some reason.”

“The sun.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Wasn’t enough to stop him from driving away though.”

“It wasn’t as bad at the beginning.” Steve’s gaze had turned glassy, cloudy with remembrance and pain. “The first few days it wasn’t as bad.”

Hopper glanced to the side his gaze flickering over boy who wore a maturity far greater than his his eighteen years in his eyes. He snapped his eyes back to the road. “Susan came straight to the police station. Talked to the first officer she laid eyes on. Thought Billy might come after her and Max next. You and him are close, right?”

Steve’s cheeks reddened and Hopper’s brows furrowed at his reaction. “Um...yeah.”

“Do you think he would?”

“Go after Susan and Max? No, definitely not.” Steve almost scoffed at the ridiculous notion. The only way that would happen was in a moment of blinding hunger.

“Steve. I know you’re friends. I know he helped save you when you were infected,” At this Steve’s cheeks got impossibly redder, “but you need to really think about this. He murdered his own father. I need to know if he’s going to go after them.”

“It’s not that.” Steve cleared his suddenly thick throat. “Neil...he wasn’t a good dad. What Billy did? I-I think it was self defense.”

Hopper pulled his truck into the Harrington’s empty driveway. He put the car in park and turned off the engine. The unbearably still air sat heavy between them.

“It’s my fault, Hop. I'm the one who attacked him. I did this to him. If-if it weren't for me this never would've happened.”

“It doesn't matter how it started, kid. He killed someone, in front of a witness.”

“You’re going after him?” Steve’s voice rose in disbelief. “He didn't mean it! You don't understand what it feels like, how out of control you are.”

“You're not listening, it doesn't matter. He's a murderer. I can't cover this up, it's out there. The most I can do is try and keep this quiet for as long as possible and bring him in myself before he has the chance to hurt anyone else. You have to face facts, Steve. He's dangerous, a killer. The best case scenario is we get to him before he bites anyone else. If he does there's no telling how far this thing could spread. We need to stop him, by whatever means necessary.”

Steve’s hands clenched to fists against his thighs but he didn’t say a word. He couldn’t help but think about how differently the Chief would’ve handled his own infection four months ago if Steve had, in his illness, accidentally killed someone.

Hopper looked around them at the barren driveway and silent, dark house. “Where’re your parents?”

“Out of town, they’ll be back tonight.”

“Okay. You have my number?” At this Steve nodded, “Good. He comes here or tries to contact you, you let me know immediately. Got it?”

“What about Jane?” Steve asked. Hopper’s hands tightened on over the leather coated steel of the steering wheel.

“What about Jane?”

“She killed those men from the lab when they came after her. You didn’t turn her in” The muscles of Hopper’s jaw bunched and bulged with force. He took a deep, steadying breath in through his nose, briefly shutting his eyes, before releasing it and looking at the teen still in the passenger seat.

“Just let me know if he tries to contact you, okay?” Hopper said as gently as he could.


	4. Chapter 4

“Mom, you missed the turn.”

“We're not going back to the house.” Susan said, her voice a small shaking thing. Max looked over at her mom. Susan's hands were trembling where they gripped the steering wheel, red veins sat bright and plentiful in the sclera of her eyes, and the skin around them was puffy and irritated.

“Mom? What's going on? Where're Billy and Neil?” A tiny heart wrenching sound escaped passed Susan's lips and she pressed her still shaking hand against her mouth like she didn't trust what would make its way out if she opened it again. Max could see the sheen of tears gathering in the corner of her eye.

Susan managed a shuddery but deep breath and blinked back the sadness from her eyes wiping away the small trickle that tried to escape down her cheek. “We're going to stay at a hotel for a few days.”

That wasn't an answer and her reaction was just making Max more worried. She longed to ask why again. To keep asking until her mom gave her a straight answer but she looked back at the frail woman sitting next to her and decided she could wait a little while longer.

“Maxine?” Susan glanced at her daughter staring boredly out at the trees whizzing past her window. She was so beautiful, her hair lit by the sun's rays giving her an angelic appearance.

“Yeah, mom?”

“If your bro-,” she stopped for a second sucking in a sharp breath and letting it out before continuing, “-if Billy tries to talk to you don't listen to what he has to say, okay?”

“Mom?”

“If you see him. Just, just run away sweetheart. Can you do that for me, please?”

“What’s going on, mom?” One of Susan’s hands left the steering wheel to grab Maxine’s small palm with a desperate force. Max flinched at the bone grinding grip.

“Please, promise me you'll just run away.”

“O-okay, mom. I promise.” Susan let out a stuttering breath letting Max’s hand slip from hers and some of the tension drained out of her stiff shoulders.

* * *

Billy’s breath hiccuped and wheezed. He let his hands cover his face pressing the blunt tips of his nails with enough force to bite into his skin. He sat like that for a moment counting his breaths, keeping his thoughts carefully blank. He had to move, he couldn’t sit on the side of the road forever. Everyone in Hawkins knew what his car looked like. Shit, why didn’t he think of that before? It would’ve been smarter to take Neil’s care. Well, it was too late now. There was no going back, no do overs.

He just had to keep moving forward.

Billy sucked in one last shuddery breath before putting the car back in drive and pulling back onto the road. He fumbled through his glove compartment pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with the snick of flint and steel. He let the smoke curl through his lungs soothingly. He hated himself a little for knowing exactly how to get to Steve’s house. He should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from acting on his feelings for Steve eventually. He was selfish though, selfish enough to hold onto what he wanted, damn the consequences.

No one had ever accused him of being smart.  

The camaro rolled through the backstreets of Hawkins, Billy deliberately avoiding the busier streets near the downtown area. For once he actually despised the roaring rumble of the camaro’s engine. His eyes twitched restlessly across every intersection and around every building almost certain he’d see the beige of the Chief of police’s car. Thankfully, it seemed most of Hawkins was at work or too wrapped up in the intricacies of their day to day to notice the bright blue car of the resident Bad Boy and Billy was able to make his way to Steve’s house without incident. Billy rolled to a stop a few houses down from the all too familiar Harrington residence trying to hide the bulk of the camaro behind another car parked on the street.

There it was. Beige and white paint, red and blue lights mounted on top, and _Hawkins Police Dept._ emblazoned on the side. Of fucking course the Chief would know to go to Steve to get to Billy. Billy banged his head against the steering wheel letting out a frustrated growl. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He watched as Steve got out of the cop’s car shutting the door with force before stomping to his front door. Billy could just see the Chief shaking his head before putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the otherwise empty driveway. Billy held his breath. If the cop drove this way it was all over, he was fucking dead. He made a decision then, he wasn’t going to go down easy. Fuck that cop, fuck Hawkins, he would not go gentle into that good night.

Hopper’s car swung around heading in the opposite direction of the brash, blue camaro. Billy let out a sigh. He waited a few more minutes, fidgeting and debating with himself, before starting his car up again and pulling into Steve’s driveway. He hated the exposed feeling it gave him. If anyone drove by they’d know instantly he was inside. He’d need to conceal his car soon if he wanted a chance in hell of surviving this.

“Billy!” Steve said surprised as soon as he answered the knocking door. “Get in here!”

Steve pulled his friend inside his eyes searching the surrounding street frantically before slamming the door shut.

“Do you need blood?” Steve asked as he proffered his arm.

“What the fuck, Steve?!” Billy threw himself back and away from his friend, colliding painfully with the opposite wall. “That's how all this shit started! Jesus Christ, it's a miracle you graduated high school.”

“I had it before. Maybe it's like chickenpox? You know, you can only get it once.”

“I'm not going to fucking _bite_ you on a _maybe._ Besides, I-I already had some.” Both boys flinched at the implication

“Billy, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. Just don’t. Can I move my Camaro into your garage? I don’t like it just sitting out there.”

“No-yeah, of course! Look, why don’t you draw the blinds and give me the keys. I’ll move it so you don’t have to go back into the sun.” Steve held out his hand. Billy side-eyed his friend before reluctantly tossing him the keys.

“You better not scratch it up again.”

“That was Max!”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Steve rolled his eyes before opening the door, the sunlight briefly hitting Billy and causing him to recoil. “Sorry, sorry.” Steve closed the door hurriedly behind him as he went to move the car.

Billy ambled into the living room and closed the plentiful blinds blocking enough light that he could take off his sunglasses without giving himself a headache. He sat on the couch staring at the gentle flutter as they settled into their new positions. It wasn’t fair of him to do this to Steve. He shouldn’t have come here. If he was actually a good friend, a good person, he’d leave right now and never bother Steve again. But he was selfish.

The front door opened. Steve made his way into the living room and sat on a chair across from Billy drawing his attention away from the blinds.

“Are you okay?” Billy let out a sharp amused sound. “Alright, dumb question. Is there anything I can do?”

“Got any booze?”

“Is that really a good idea right now?”

“Steve. I just...I just killed my dad.”

Steve's face contorted in sympathetic pain. He longed to reach out his hand, to clasp Billy on the shoulder, pull him into a hug, do _something_. Instead he tightened the grip he had on his own fingers.

“I’ll, um, I’ll grab some wh-beer.” Steve caught himself before he brought up the other elephant in the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Hopper sat in his office his cup of coffee lukewarm at best and cigarette burnt down to the filter as it rested in the ashtray. It was still early afternoon but it felt like a week had past since he’d last slept. He should’ve known this wouldn’t end with the Harrington kid. That would’ve been too easy. His hand hovered over the phone receiver. It was tempting to call Owens, bring in someone who might actually have and idea what the fuck was going on. But he wasn’t that desperate...yet.

As far as he knew Billy Hargrove had only attacked one person. If he could keep this contained there’d be no reason They had to know anything about it. The last thing he wanted to do was put his town - his daughter - in more danger. His still hovering hand finally lowered pressing the intercom button.

“Flo, are Powell and Callahan back yet?”

“Yes, they came in a few minutes ago.”

Jim pinched the still smouldering cigarette between his fingers and tried to suck in as much rich smoke as it could offer before it was completely spent. He snubbed out the ashes in the ceramic tray on his desk and got up. He made his way to the bullpen snapping his fingers at his fellow officers to get their attention as well as that of his secretary. He sat down on the edge of a nearby desk and crossed his arms firmly over his chest.

“I’m not going to sugar coat this. This is the worst crime Hawkins has ever seen.” The Chief’s eyes flicked down to the carpet briefly before meeting the eyes of his colleagues again. “Right now is our best chance at catching the kid. He’s going to be panicked and trying to make a break for it. We need to cut off the roads, set up some blockades, make sure he can’t make it to an interstate. Consider him armed and dangerous. Be extremely cautious if you approach him, don’t assume his isn’t armed even if he appears to be. And no going to the press with anything.”

“There’s a killer on the loose and we’re not telling the news?” Powell said incredulously.

“The best shot we have is the element of surprise. He’ll be watching, keeping an eye out for any information he can use to get past us, we give that up and we got nothing.”

“What if he goes after someone else? They might not even know he’s dangerous. We owe it to the public, they deserve a warning!”

“He’s not going to stick around wreaking havoc, he’ll be headed out of town. All I’m asking for is a day. I know we can catch him. If we don’t we’ll tell the press, hell, let’s make it a national headline. But until then, set up the blockade and keep an eye out for a blue camaro, alright?”

“Yes, Chief.” Powell bit back a retort his mouth a firm, disapproving line. Hopper sighed and left his officers to their tasks. “Where’re you goin’?”

“To find the kid.” Hopper threw over his shoulder as he headed out of the station.

* * *

It’d been about an hour since they’d started to drown themselves in beer. Billy had sat there stubbornly silent, taking large swigs of the bitter liquid. Steve hated the still air, he wanted to talk about something, anything really, but he was too afraid of saying the wrong thing. Billy had a hair trigger on a good day and today was decidedly not a good day.

“I'm not... _you know_ ,” Steve spun his hand around in a circle trying to say something without naming it,  “I'm not queer.”

 _Shit_. So much for trying to say the right thing. Alcohol always loosened his tongue a bit too much for his own good.

“You really want to do this now, Steve?” Billy scoffed.

“No, I guess not…” Steve sat there quietly for approximately a minute before his jittery nerves forced him to speak again. “...It's just...why me? Why'd you think I'd want...that?”

“I was drunk.” Billy sighed.

“So, it was just the whiskey? you're not...?” Billy just glared at Steve. “I mean, it's okay if you are! It's fine! I'm just not... _like that_ , you know?”

That old familiar rage bubbled up out of Billy's gut. “You sure about that, _pretty boy?_ You really seemed to enjoy yourself.” Billy winked salaciously and Steve's cheeks reddened.

“I was drunk!” Billy just raised an eyebrow. “It had been a long time since-” Steve stopped digging his own grave mid-sentence and let out a frustrated sigh. “Anyone would've reacted that way!”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“That's not what I meant!”

“don't backpedal now! Which was it that got you off, _Steve_ , huh? You a queer or was I just that good?”

“T-that's not, I-I-” Steve stammered eyes going big and panicky. In the face of Steve freaking out all that anger, that rage, just left. Billy just felt empty, alone. He sighed, taking pity on the older boy.

“I know you're not a fag.” Billy took a fortifying sip from his nearly empty can. “I am. I promise I'll leave your virtue intact from now on.”

“oh,” Steve sat there in stunned silence for a few seconds. “Am I the only one who knows?”

“Max figured it out.” Billy tipped his can up draining the dregs.

“How did she-”

“-I’m going to go take a shower.” Billy set his can down on the now aluminum cluttered coffee table before getting up and leaving Steve with his mouth still agape, the rest of his question hanging on his lips.

* * *

Susan parked in an empty spot at in the hotel parking lot. It wasn’t a nice hotel, the paint on the outside looked old and like the years of harsh sun and bitter winter snow had changed it’s already dull color to even more of a lifeless beige, but it wasn’t that bad either. It certainly wasn’t the motel on the outskirts of town that looked like more cockroaches had stayed there than people.

“C’mon Maxine, we need to go check in.” Susan said after several seconds of silence where all she could do was stare at where her fingers wrapped around the leather steering wheel.

“Mom, where’re our bags?” Max turned to look into the empty backseat.

“Oh. We’ll, uh, We’ll just have to stay in these clothes for now. I’ll-,” Susan blinked rapidly trying to push back the tears preemptively gathering in her eyes, “I’ll stop by the house tomorrow to pack us a few things.”


	6. Chapter 6

Hopper walked into his small house stress headache already throbbing in his temples. He can't say he's entirely surprised that shit hit the fan again but he'd hoped. Things had been going smoothly with Jane's adoption and introducing her to the school system. Of course she was behind on the class work but they'd been working on catching her up over the summer and, unsurprisingly, she was a very quick learner. It helped that she had a nice group of friends she could rely on. They'd insisted she join them at Science Camp. They had assaulted him with reasons like helping her get prepared for the coming year and meet other kids. He'd been more than happy to oblige. It let him finally relax at work knowing that for at least the majority of his work day she was under supervision. 

Jim would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about Jane running away again to find more of her "siblings". She'd kept pretty tight-lipped about her trip to find her "sister" but it was clear she cared about her. All Hopper could do was try and provide the best home he could and hope she would stay. The uncertainty scared him but he took solace in the fact that she was extremely competent for her age. 

“Jane, I need your help finding someone.” El was sitting in front of the TV twitching her head to the side anytime she wanted to change the channel. He'd gotten her a bike at the beginning of summer so she could ride around with her friends and get to and from camp while he was at the office. He still wasn't sure if she'd actually learned to ride it or if she was just using her powers to keep the bike vertical while she pedalled. 

El furrowed her brow and gave a quick flick of her head. The picture on the screen flashed off the afterimage of a news anchor imprinting for a few seconds longer before fading. "Who?"

"Max's brother, Billy. Do you know him?" 

"Why?"

Jim sighed and sat down next to her on the couch. Her lexicon had grown significantly since they'd started playing their dictionary game but she always defaulted to her laconic speech patterns relying on her conversation partner to keep up.

"He…" Jim mulled over how much to tell her. She'd had more exposure to death and danger than anyone ever should, much less someone of her age. He knew she could handle it but he still felt the urge to try and protect her when he could. Still, she always appreciated his honesty. After the debacle with her mother he'd vowed to try and be as up front with her as he could. "...killed someone. Right now he's dangerous, to himself and others. I need to find him to protect everyone."

"Ok. I need a picture."

* * *

 

Steve sat sipping his beer as he listened to the spray of water against tile. He'd really fucked things up. Why was he always such an asshole? He should go apologize. Steve got up off the chair his legs a little unsteady. Billy was in the shower right now. Naked. Steve took a sip of his nearly empty can to wet his dry throat. He sat back down in the chair fiddling with the tab on the can, flicking it back and forth until it flew off to land somewhere on the carpet.

After what felt like an hour the shower shut off. The pipes rattled slightly in the walls at the change and Steve sat up from where he'd sunken into the cushions mulling over how he could make things right and sobering up. 

He gave Billy another ten minutes before heading up the stairs. He palms felt clammy as he neared the door to the spare room. He steeled his nerves and turned the knob mouth already open and prepared to spew his practiced and very well thought out apology.

“My dad beats me, used to beat me.” Billy sat with his bare back pressed against the boxspring of the spare bed. A towel was still wrapped around his waist and his damp curls were dripping on his collarbone. Steve shut his mouth and walked into the room silently making sure to close the door even though they were the only people in the house, it made it feel more private. He sat down wordlessly across from Billy. “I never told anyone that before.”

“Hmm.” Steve tried to prompt Billy to continue.

“He didn't used to be like that. Well, it wasn't that bad at least. He was so happy I was a boy, his son. He named me William, after my grandfather. 'Strong family name’,” Billy's voice went deep in a mocking imitation of his father. “I guess he never really got the son he wanted.” Billy's eyes were shiny and he tilted his head back keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“He sounds like a jackass.” Billy barked out a rough laugh finally letting his eyes find Steve’s.

“Yeah, yeah he was.” Billy's laughter died slowly as he grew more somber. “He didn't deserve to die, though. Not like that. No one deserves that.” He looked away again, not wanting to see whatever emotion Steve’s face was sure to conjure. He had such an expressive face, so open and caring. Without much else to look at he tilted his head back. He let his limbs loosen and his eyes roll shut. He could smell Steve, feel him, just those few short feet away. “You should tie me up.”

“You can’t stay here, Billy.”

“What?” Billy tried hard not to flinch as the ugly rejection hit him like a physical blow. “I get it. Just let me get changed and I’ll be out of your Farrah Fawcett styled hair.”

“No, I mean, my parents will be back in a couple hours.”

“Right, I’ll be gone before they get here.”

"Ugh! Will you just listen to me?  _ We _ need to leave before they get here."

"We?" Fragile hope blossomed in Billy's chest and he hates himself for it. He couldn't stand how he cherished the meager scraps of friendly affection Steve threw to him like a starving stray. "I don't need your pity or your help, Steve. I can take care of this. I just have to wait it out, right? You were fine in a few days."

"God, why do you have to fight everything! It's not  _ pity _ , you asshole. You're my friend and I'm not letting you just run away on your own. And it was closer to a week, not a few days"

"I'm not fucking 'running away'! I'm trying to protect you!" Billy glared at Steve and heaved a deep sigh. "I can't keep myself in check like you could. If we leave that means we have to keep moving, which means you can't just tie me up somewhere. If I'm not restrained I don't think I'll be able to stop myself from...from attacking you."

"Trust me, Billy, I get it but I'm still not going to let you leave alone. Besides, I still have your keys."

"Shit. Guess you win, pretty boy." Billy closed his eyes and let his head to rest on the box spring behind him. He missed how Steve's cheeks reddened at the nickname.

"We should tell the Party, or at least Nancy and Johnathan."

"Are you fucking crazy? That bitch almost shot  _ you _ . She almost shot me  _ before _ I was infected. You really think she'd keep her pistol holstered long enough for me to get a word in now?"

"She's not a-," Steve cut himself off sensing this particular point was not one he'd likely be able to change Billy's opinion on. "Look, they might be able to help."

"You mean like they were able to help you?" Billy let the sarcasm drip from his lips. "Maybe you're not getting it.  _ They were going to kill you.  _ Comprende?"

"What's the alternative here, Billy? We go off on our own, running from the police until I piss you off at the wrong time and you rip my throat out?"

The muscles of Billy's jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. Steve sighed.

"I'm sorry. It's just...if you have a plan I'm all ears. But I really think we could use some help. I mean, no one even knows exactly what happened to me. You really think I'm the most qualified help you can get?"

"People aren't exactly lining up to lend me a hand, Steve." Billy chuckled darkly, "Besides, you said it yourself, no one knows what this thing is or how it works. How would anyone else be able to help more?"

"It's going to get worse. I know what that hunger feels like, what it makes you want to do. At the very least they'd be able to restrain you better."

"Like I said before Honor Roll's not exactly my type and I don't really trust her to respect my safeword."

"Billy." Steve tried to plead.

"I'm not going to let them take me out back like Old Yeller, Steve. This shit isn't going to be how I die. You got that?" Billy glared at the brunette his fierce blue eyes sending a shiver down Steve's spine.

"Okay, fine! I guess we're fugitives now." Steve threw his hands up in the air in a huff. "Well, I should probably go pack. You know, for our escape from the cops!"

"Does that make you Bonnie or Clyde?" Billy said as Steve tromped out of the room.

"Clyde!" Steve shouted angrily from the hallway and Billy laughed.

* * *

 

Hopper sat patiently as El held the yearbook photo of Billy he'd taken from the Hargrove house earlier. Her face scrunched up in concentration her expression hard to read with the headband covering her eyes. A small drop of blood trickled onto her upper lip and she tilted her head to the side. Jim always hated that part of her powers. It made him think of brain scans and hemorrhages.

El's brows drew together and the fingers holding the photo tightened crinkling the paper. Only a few minutes passed before she was pulling the headband off of her eyes.

"Did you see him? Do you know where he is?" 

"You told."

"What?"

"The bad men."

"Jane, what are you talking about?"

"When Will was in the Upside-down. You told the bad men I was at the school."

“Jane, I don’t kno-”

“Liar!” Jane stood up off the couch knocking the coffee table aside with her powers. Hopper stood up with his hands out trying to placate her.

“Okay, okay. I-I told them.” Hopper dropped his eyes to the ground unable to meet her gaze. El let out a sob her eyes brimming with tears. “I had to! It was the only way to save Will. I knew you’d be alright.”

“You always lie! You lied about mama, you kept me from my friends. Y-you led the bad men to me. Friends don’t lie!” El screamed her hands curled into fists at her sides.

“Jane-”

“No! I trusted you but you’re a bad man. You  _ are  _ just like Papa!” El shouted as she held her hand out in front of her pushing Hopper up against the wall with her mind. Loose paper fluttered around the room and Jim grunted as he hit the wall.

“Jane, please.” Hopper managed to croak out through gritted teeth. Jane ignored him as she pointed her other hand at the door undoing the locks from a distance and flinging the wood open.

She left him there, pressed up against the wall with an invisible force as she walked out into the dimming light, photograph still wrinkled in her hand. There was no way to know exactly how far she got before the pressure keeping Hopper on the wall ceased and he collapsed onto his hands and knees sucking in deep breaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for season three you guys. Evil Billy is going to be amazing!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last update before the new season airs.

Brenda sat on the heated metal of her car’s hood. She pulled out her second burrito as Tina gesticulated wildly recounting her last summer party. The small group of four chuckled as Tina mimed a failed attempt to shotgun a beer that resulted in a bystander getting sprayed with foam and beer. Tina was almost out of breath when she rejoined Brenda on the car and let someone else take over the conversation. They do this a lot in the summer, drive around until they get hungry then park at the Taco Bell to eat and smoke in the lot. In a small town there wasn’t much else to do during a long, boring summer day.

“Hey, isn’t that Billy’s car?” Tina pointed at the blue camaro that had just pulled into a parking space close to the door. 

“Yeah, why’s Steve driving it?” Ashley asked perplexed as she turned to watch the flashy blue camaro. Brenda’s head snapped up from unwrapping her burrito, her eyes wide and anxious. She’d been drifting in and out of the conversation for the last ten minutes but when she heard Steve’s name she tuned back in, fear churning her stomach.

“Steve’s here?” She questioned, her voice far too timid for her liking. She looked around the parking lot and sure enough she saw him stepping out of Billy’s car and walking inside.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you want to leave?” Tina whispered to Brenda. They’d been best friends since kindergarten and she was the only one Brenda had felt comfortable enough to tell exactly how much of an asshole Steve Harrington really was. She was terrified no one would believe her, that they’d call her a liar, a slut who was just trying to drag his name in the mud. Even after he’d graduated Steve’s name still echoed through the halls of Hawkins High, most people uttering it with reverence and affection. If she was honest she’d even been scared to tell Tina, but of course her best friend had believed her.

“No, he’s the one that should leave. I’m not going to just run away from him forever.” She sat defiantly.

“Don’t worry. If he tries something I got your back.” Tina smiled at her and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

* * *

Billy hunched down into the _passenger_ seat of _his_ car. His face scrunched up at the thought of Steve driving his car. Sure, he’d agreed it was probably best he didn’t try to drive right now but it still left an unpleasant sticky feeling in his chest. He would’ve preferred to leave his car behind given it’s undeniably flashy nature but for some idiotic reason the red beemer was absent. He really couldn’t catch a break.

“Jesus, Steve, that shit smells disgusting.” Billy pinched his nostrils together trying to block the offensive odor. Steve just rolled his eyes.

“I have to eat something, okay?” 

“Not while you’re driving. If you spill anything in my car I will end you, Steve, got it?”

“Alright, alright calm down. Where are we even supposed to be going?”

“The fuck out of Hawkins that’s for sure.”

“Yeah that really clears everything up.”

“I don’t know, Steve,” Billy threw his hands in the air. “I always thought I’d be heading back to California if I ever managed to put this pile of shit in my rearview.”

“Hawkins isn’t that bad, asshole.”

“No? Want to know how many times people were kidnapped or infected by monsters from another dimension in California?”

“Okay, you have a point. We can’t head to California though, it’s too far and too sunny.”

“Let’s just focus on getting across state lines for now. We can decide where to go after that.”

“The closest border is to the West.” Billy gestured with his hand as if to say ‘lead the way’ while raising his eyebrows. Sometimes Steve hated the prick.

They drove in silence for a while neither being able to settle on music that they’d both enjoy. The sun was setting, the slanting light cut through the windshield as they drove. Steve kept throwing worried glances at his passenger. He could see Billy’s jaw tensing and the scrunched furrow of pain in his brow. It must be taking a lot out of him to be in the sun this long.

“Oh fuck! Turn here-”

“What?”

“NOW!” Billy pointed to a small offshoot to the left of the road. The camaro’s tires screeched as Steve took the surprise turn a little too fast. He pulled into the parking lot of a small motel. The seedy looking one story building stood between them and the main road.

“What the fuck was that about? We were almost to the freeway.”

“Cops.”

“What?”

“There were cops parked right by the entrance ramp. They’re waiting for us.”

“Shit. What should we do?”

“I guess we’re booking a room.”

“Alright, I’ll get us one for the night. Got any cash?” Steve’s hand grasped the metal door handle but before he could leverage himself out the car Billy was grabbing his other arm.

“You don’t think someone dressed like that,” Billy gestured to Steve’s expensive outfit, “is going to raise some flags?”

“Oh come on, I’ll be fine. Besides, you don’t really look like you could handle it right now anyway.” Billy’s hand tightened on Steve’s bicep.

“I got this, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes but gestured for Billy to go. “ _You_ have any cash?"

“Umm,” Steve’s cheeks reddened as he dug a scant few twenties from his wallet. “My parents cut me off when I didn’t get accepted to college. That’s all I’ve managed to save since I started at Scoops. Gas is expensive.” Steve shrugged. Billy grabbed the handful of cash adding it to his own modest stack in his pocket before walking into the door marking the front office.

The clerk behind the desk looked up. His eyes trailed down Billy's sweaty, pale face past his sunglass adorned eyes, along his denim covered arms, to his trembling fingers.

“Can I help you?”

“I need a room for the night.”

“It’s $10 for a single, $20 for a double.” Billy winced the money in his pocket seeming far too little to cover the long journey ahead of them.

“I’ll take a single.” The clerk nodded digging around behind the counter before pulling out a banged up key attached to a logo emblazoned keychain. The clerk reached over the desk his hand holding the key out for Billy but when the teen grabbed it the clerk’s grip tightened. 

“We have _room service_ here. If you _need_ anything just call the front desk and ask for Chuck.”

“I have everything I _need_.” Billy sneered. He just wanted to get the key and get as far away from any other person as he could manage.

“Suit yourself. You're not the first person to check in here looking to clean up their act. Just give me a call when you change your mind. As long as you have the cash I can get you what you want.”

Billy jerked the key free from the clerk’s, Chuck’s, outstretched hand and turned away without another word. He shuffled his way to room six not even stopping to collect Steve from the car. He’d follow soon enough and Billy could really use even just a few seconds without someone else in his space. The sun had sapped whatever energy he’d had. He felt like he hadn’t slept in a week. After fumbling at the lock for a second Billy pushed open the cheap door with it’s flaking paint chips. His lip curled at the musty space beyond. It looked like a cockroach’s wet dream. Crumbs littered the nauseatingly patterned carpet, dust coated every stationary surface in a thick film and there was some unidentifiable odor that seemed to almost seep from the tobacco stained walls. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least it was a relatively safe place to try and plan their next move. He left the door cracked open for Steve to follow but drew the curtains shut, sneezing at the plumes of dust the movement shook loose, and threw himself on the creaky bed.

Billy wasn’t naive, he knew he’d never be the same. He knew he’d never be able to return to his old life and pretend like nothing happened, he wasn’t Harrington. He didn’t want his old life back anyway! He didn’t want to have to tiptoe around his own house. He was free now. Free from _respect and responsibility_ , free of expectation. A laugh bubbled out of Billy’s chest. It grew louder and more ragged around the edges until there were tears in his eyes and his sides hurt. He was free!

“Billy?” Steve pushed the door aside carrying their two bags and his neglected Taco Bell bag as stepped into the dingy room. “You okay? Everything go alright with the room?”

“Just peachy, Steve.” Steve just continued to look at him like he was insane. “You mind closing that? It’s giving me a headache.” Billy squinted behind his sunglasses and raised his arm to shield his eyes even further. Steve closed the door making sure to bolt and chain it shut. “The guy thought I was a junkie or something, barely looked at me twice.”

Steve set down their bags as Billy turned on the ancient TV set and started flipping through channels. His finger froze above the channel button as the fuzzy image of Billy’s yearbook photo stared back from the nightly news.

_Breaking News! Local Hawkins resident Neil Hargrove was murdered by his son William Hargrove this morning. The suspect is still at large and believed to be driving a baby blue camaro. If you see this man please call the authorities immediately. Do not try and engage with the suspect as he is presumed armed and dangerous. I repeat, do not try and talk to the suspect, call authorities immediately!_

“Shit.”

“I really hate that picture. It was too humid, made my hair all frizzy.”

“Next time I’m booking the room.”


	8. Chapter 8

"Maxine, honey. I'm just going to take a shower, okay? Make yourself comfortable." Susan said, the smile on her face a brittle, cracked thing.

"Okay, mom." Max pulled back the cheap, scratchy comforter and settled into the stiff white hotel sheets stretching to grab the remote off the nightstand.

Susan left her there turning to the small restroom. She locked the door and turned the creaking metal shower knobs until a harsh spray of water assaulted the tiles. As soon as the loud rush of water started she collapsed to her knees finally letting out a deep shuddering sob. 

She curled up against the cool porcelain of the bathtub and let her shoulders shake with grief. She let herself feel everything she'd tried so hard to keep locked away inside. She let tears burn a hot river down her cheeks, she curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arm around them hugging them to her breast one-handed like she used to when she was a child. Her other hand tried to block the terrible hiccoughing sounds torn from her throat. She longed for comfort, for the press of strong arms circling her tremor wracked limbs but she knew it'd never come.

She needed to be strong for her daughter. She needed to be a light to guide her Maxine through this. 

But not right now. Right now, just for a few precious, stolen minutes she allowed herself to be a scared little girl again. Just for a minute she let herself be the one in need of comfort. 

And then she took a deep breath. It hitched, still thick with emotion. She took another, and another until air flowed into her lungs smoothly.

She wiped at her eyes until they were clear and stood up on steady legs. She adjusted the shower taps making the water comfortable before disrobing and stepping in. The water streamed down her face erasing any evidence of salt tears and shattered composer.

Susan wrapped herself in a white towel that was just a little too small, and a little too stiff and walked back into the room with her daughter, steam billowing out after her.

"Mom?" Max's voice was laced with panic and Susan saw the picture of the monster who'd killed her husband projected on the TV screen. The scrawl across the bottom described his crimes in detail. 

"Oh, Maxine." Susan rushed to her daughter's side wrapping her arms around her tiny frame.

"W-what happened?" Max's voice was shaking now, as were her shoulders. Susan grabbed the remote out of her loose grip and turned off the television.

She would be strong for her daughter. Nothing would happen to her Maxine.

"Maxine, sweety. I'm sorry you found out this way. I should've told you. It's true, what they're saying on the news. Billy, he...he killed your father." Susan could feel Max's tears on her arm.

"No, h-he wouldn't."

"I'm so sorry sweetheart. But I promise you you'll be safe. I'm going to protect you, alright? Tomorrow morning an officer is going to take me back to the house and I'm going to pack us a few bags and then we're going to go back to California. Doesn't that sound nice?"

* * *

 

“we need to leave right now!” steve says while he panickedly grips his hair. 

“You have any ideas for getting past those cops? Everyone and their grandma will be looking for my car.” 

“Then we ditch it! Can’t you hotwire another or something?” 

“Will you stop screaming? You're giving me a headache. What the fuck are you talking about anyway? Why would I know how to hotwire a car?” 

“I don’t know! You’re whole _thing_.” Steve gestures up and down at Billy. 

“What _thing?_ ” 

“You know!”

“Nevermind” Billy just shakes his head. “We’ll be _fine._ Like I said I doubt the clerk is the News type and no one can see the parking lot from the road. If we try and move it now someone will definitely notice. Let’s not do anything rash, we need a plan to get past those cops.” Billy rubs at his temples but the sharp pain there only increases.

"You okay?" Steve reaches out a hand to his friend before he thinks better of it and pulls it back.

"No, not reall- gah!" Billy shouts as pain erupts from his stomach and he doubles over.

"Billy?" Steve takes a cautious step back towards where he dropped their bags.

" _Fuck!"_ Billy exclaims, his arms wrapped around his middle. "You, uh, you didn't happen to pack some rope in those bags, did you?"

"Not exactly." Steve says as he lifts out a couple of coils of orange extension cord.

Steve ties Billy down to the bed looping the rubber sheathed cable around his arms and feet. Billy lays there face scrunched in silent pain as he tries to ignore the waves of agony crashing through him and what they mean.

"That offer still on the table, Steve?" Billy grits out through his clenched teeth. He hates himself for bringing it up, for giving in but goddamn it fucking _hurts_ and Steve's right there and _warm_. He can't help the image of Steve's skin between his teeth that flashes through his mind. He opens his eyes, if just to confront himself with reality.

Steve finishes tying off the restraints uncomfortable with how efficient he's become with that particular task. "Um," Steve wrings his hands as he backs away from the bed knowing how much distance helps the hunger. "I was thinking, on the drive-"

"Didn't hurt yourself I hope." Billy snarls. He can't help it, he knows where this is going. He can hear it in his friend's voice. Steve ignores him.

"Maybe we shouldn't feed it, you know? Like what Will said before." Steve looks a bit uncertain.

"Fuck you, Harrington! Are you serious? I fucking bled for _you_ , asshole!" Billy throws his head back as a particularly painful fit pulses out of his gut. He grunts around a scream he's trying to keep in his throat. He strains against the bounds on his wrists.

"Billy"

"No," he pants when he's finally able to speak again, the rage still boiling over hot and violent. "Fuck you! When your girlfriend and your fucking foster kids were trying to kill you I was the only one, _the only one_ , still trying to help you! Now you can't fucking return the favour."

"I'm _trying_ to help!" Steve pleaded.

"Bullshit!" Billy screamed and Steve flinched. "You're just a fucking coward!"

"I'm sorry you're in pain," Steve takes a breath trying valiantly not to escalate their fight. "I know me being here just makes it worse. So, I'm going to go for a walk, give you some space." Steve grabs the room key off the side table by Billy's head. He wishes he could go for a drive, it'd always been better for clearing his head but it definitely wasn't worth the risk.

"Steve! Steve!" Billy's voice is panicked as he watches the man walk towards the exit.

"I won't be long." Steve says right before he shuts the door. He hears Billy screaming at him from behind the wood barrier and thanks...some higher power that it seems like most of the other rooms are empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I've got some news. I've decided to start publishing some original works. I've got some stuff in the works for shorter stories as well as at least three novel length pieces. I plan on publishing my first short in about a month. I'll link it in the notes once it's officially available. My plan is to make all of my stuff available on the regular Kindle store and Kindleunlimited. I AM NOT ABANDONING MY FICS, promise. But once this story is done I'll probably shift my focus to original content. If you like my style and characterization I hope you check it out.


	9. Chapter 9

"DamnIt! Damnit! DAMNIT!" Billy screams as he pulls the wires wrapped around his wrists taut. He could feel his heart racing and a feverish cold sweat beading along his skin. He could hear the groaning wood of the cheap motel bed frame but there was no give. Finally, he lets his arms slacken in defeat. He swallows around the dry cracking of his parched throat. 

Fuck Steve and his insufferable, righteous saviour complex. Had he forgotten what it was like? 

Billy whined high at the back of his throat as pain exploded from his abdomen. God, this was hell. He always thought the worst feeling was when his dad really let him have it and he'd be laid up in bed for a day or two. The slow, painful healing of a broken bone or sprained joint always left him feeling powerless and weak. He hated not feeling strong, hated being hobbled and helpless.

Of course thinking about his dad just made him relive what he'd done. The awful, gory visions of his father bleeding out, his warm blood slippery against the shiny wooden planks of the floor. If he closed his eyes he could see the spurts of red shooting out of the gnawed artery in his dad's neck, pulsing slower and slower in time with his weakening heart.

 _God_ , he could still taste it. That flood of savory, metallic flavor sharp on his tongue. The sense memory is making his mouth water. Billy groans. He doesn't want to remember it but it's burned into him, into the core of him. He wishes it would turn his stomach, that it would disgust him, horrify him like it should. The way it would for a human. Instead what he feels is pain surging through him from his empty stomach. He feels it burning up his dry throat and cracking his parched tongue.

He feels his eyes burn with shame and he tries to rub them but his hand halts a few inches away, stopped by his bounds. Billy shakes out a cold laugh at himself and the fucked up situation he's in. 

He hates how he feels. Like his body's betraying him. Changing him, right down to the marrow of his bones. Something black and slick sliding right beneath his skin, oozing through his capillaries, invading his every cell. It makes him feel like he's not really Billy anymore. Like Billy died when Neil did. Whatever's left is just a shell, just an echo of him fading more and more with each passing second.

Is this how they felt? Those poor bastards in the Donner Party, snowed in and starving. How long did they last? How hard did they fight it before giving in? 

Were they human after?

The worst part is he isn't strong enough to fight this. He knows that. If Steve we're here right now he's bite him. _Shit_. He'd do it in a heartbeat. 

 _A heartbeat._ Billy huffs out a humorless laugh.  

He can't help but picture it, Steve at his mercy. Hot skin flush beneath his hands. A confusing rush of sensations floods Billy's senses. There's lust, of course, but it's tainted by worse, darker things. What if it'd been Steve that day instead of Neil? Could he have stopped then? Would Steve beg him to stop?

Billy lets out a pained groan and his self loathing rears its head again. This was the worst torture. He knew his queer mind was fucked up before, but this? There was so much wrong with this. He had no idea if the thoughts were coming from the infection or his own corrupted psyche. Either way it was sick. Depraved. Maybe he should be used to feeling that way by now but he wasn't. 

He had to trust that he wouldn't kill Steve. Steve hadn't killed him after all, and they hadn't even been friends at the time. Billy...liked Steve, probably more than he should. Demonstrably more than Steve liked him at least. That had to mean something, right? If Steve had stopped Billy could too. 

It didn't even have to _be_ Steve. There was that guy, the one working the motel. He just had to call him, say he changed his mind and he'd come right to the room. No delivery fee. Billy wet his lips. His eyes landed on the off-yellow old-style rotary phone sitting on the nightstand. He stretched out his left hand, pulling the extension cord into a sharp line. His wiggled his arm hoping it would loosen something but it only pulled the tight loop around his wrists tighter, cutting off his circulation- if he even still had that. 

He tried again. His fingertips brushed the smooth plastic and the ringer dinged as he nudged the handset in it's cradle. Billy let out a frustrated sound. He was so close! So goddamn close from stopping this agony! 

He grunted in effort and lunged at the device once more. This time successfully knocking the handset off. He could hear the faint buzzing of the phone line. Ha! He reached for the tightly curled wire connecting it to its base and wrapped it around his fingers carefully, using the leverage to pull the whole thing towards the bed so he could dial. 

A smile cracked apart his lips.

* * *

 

Steve looked out at the flashing headlights of the cars on the freeway only a few dozen feet away. He sat on the backrest of a wooden bench his feet planted where he ass should be. Taco Bell bag crumpled at his side, the burritos long gone cold. Smoke curled from the smouldering cigarette in his fingers. It was Billy's brand. Filched from the glove compartment of the Camaro. All things considered Steve didn't think Billy's mind too much. He had a lot worse things to be mad at Steve for.

A frown tugged at the corners of Steve's mouth. He'd tried so hard to put what'd happened all those months ago behind him but he knew he'd never really forget it. Of course he remembered the overpowering urge to bite Billy. He also remembered the relief, among other things, that came with satisfying that compulsion. He sympathized with Billy. How could he not?

But. But feeding it, that thing trying to take over Billy, trying to change him into something else, would only make it worse, right? Steve had to believe he was doing what was best for both of them. Ultimately it was the best thing for Hawkins too, maybe even the world. But that sounded a bit dramatic. 

It made sense that feeding Steve last time had made him change more, faster. It made sense that the disease made him crave what it needed to facilitate that change. And if he'd changed, or well, _stayed_ changed, then he'd have been able to open another gate, let the Mind Flayer back into their world.

So, he was doing the right thing. Right? It was hard to believe that when he saw Billy suffering in pain. It was even worse when he knew _exactly_ what he was feeling. 

Steve shoved the last of the gross, cold burrito in his mouth and flicked the burnt filter of his cigarette into the parking lot. He wasn't starving his friend, he was trying to save him. He was doing the right thing. 

Steve let out a shuddering breath from the cage of his ribs before starting his short walk back to the room. The least he could do was apologize. Billy didn't deserve what was happening to him.

"Billy I- what are you doing?" Steve stood Frozen in the doorway for a second, his brain frantically trying to catch up to the sight in front of him. Billy was curled as far to one side of the bed as he could get, his face almost touching the phone handset sitting loose on the nightstand. Steve couldn't hear if anyone was on the other line but he didn't wait there to find out. He sprung over the bed, hand shooting out and knocking the phone off the table.

"No!" Billy roared, body bucking up on the bed jostling Steve who'd ended up in his lap. Billy's knees raised flinging Steve up Billy's supine form. Steve's hand flew out trying to catch himself, trying to find some leverage. Unfortunately that put his hand right next to Billy's head.

Billy jerked to the side his expression a feral thing. Before he could think, before Steve could move, Billy's lower jaw clamped over the edge of Steve's palm. Steve gave a surprised yelp and Billy emitted an embarrassingly needy sound. It only lasted a second before Steve was jerking his hand away and scrambling off Billy but it was enough to stain the other boy's teeth, it was enough to have him sigh with pleasure.

Steve cradled his wounded hand as he edged by the bed and carefully unplugged the phone from the wall, moving it as far from Billy as he could. Then he firmly shut the motel door and locked it.

"Steve, I…" Billy started, his head clearing for a second and realization dawning. Guilt curled in his stomach. He'd been feeling that far too much recently. He had no idea what to say.

"It's fine." Steve's voice was flat as he stared at his hand, the bite still sluggishly oozing. He shuffled his way to the bathroom, eyes never raising to meet Billy's.

"Steve…"

Steve closed the door between them. He turned on the sink faucet and let the water run over his wound. He scrubbed it with his thumb, flinching a little when he added soap to the mix. When he was done he stood there for a long time. He looked at himself in the mirror. He took in the cut of his jaw, the cut of his cheek bones, even the bruising bags under his eyes. He really hoped that whatever this was it was like the chickenpox.

Billy could feel tears brimming in his eyes. He tried to blink them away but that only made them flow over the corners of his eyes and trace hot tracks down the side of his face. He hated himself a little more as he licked his teeth clean. It had been hardly enough to wet his tongue. It was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I'm sorry about the wait on this one. A mix of shitty and good life stuff got in the way. I'll try not to let it go for that long again. Anyway hope you liked it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a bit of time to reorganize and plot the end of this story out so I'm going to put it on hiatus for about 2 months. I'm really sorry for the long wait but my hope is that I can use the time to write a bunch out and post more consistent and longer chapters. I just wanted to give you all a heads-up. 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me this far! You're all the best!

"Jon-" Nancy whispered into the phone being careful to keep her voice low so her parents couldn't hear.

"I know, I know. Mom was watching the evening news when they dropped the story."

"Have you heard from anyone?"

"No. Will's been trying to reach Max on the radio and mom's been calling Hopper but no one's answering. What about you?"

"I was going to call Steve after you. If anyone's heard from Billy it'd be him or Max. God, poor Max. What do you think happened?"

"Billy finally snapped. He was hanging by a thread as it was, you saw what he did to Steve last year."

"No, no way. Billy's violent, sure, but he'd never  _ kill _ anyone. I mean, Steve was able to forgive him for what he did. He trusts him now. They're friends."

"Steve was friends with Tommy. Forgive me if I don't trust his judge of character."

"There has to be more going on here. There's a possibility that Billy didn't even kill his dad and the police just think he did because it was an easier explanation than the truth."

"Hopper wouldn't let them hunt Billy down unless there was good reason. I know you want to trust him, but the guy's a psycho. One good deed doesn't change what he's done. Did Mike tell you what he did to Lucus that night? Not everything is interdimensional monsters Nancy."

"I know. I'm not absolving him. I just think that things could be more complicated. I think we at least owe him the benefit of the doubt."

Jonathan sighed heavily. "Okay, fine. But that doesn't change anything. We still don't know what really happened and we don't have any way to find out."

"..."

"Nance?"

"We should head to the police station. Hopper has to know what's going on."

"He might not be able to tell us anything."

"Please, Jonathan. At the very least we'll know if we need to worry about another gate."

The line was silent for a long time before Jonathan said resignedly. "I can come by in a half hour if that's good with you?"

"Sure, I'll be ready. Bye."

"Bye." Jonathan hung up the phone a headache already building in his forehead. He'd never met Neil personally but he'd overheard Max talking about him when the Party got together. He sounded like a difficult man. Still, to be killed by your own son must've been terrible. It was almost Shakespearean.

* * *

 

"What the fuck happened?" Hopper shouts angrily as he storms into the police department at nine a.m. on the dot, a first for the middle-aged chief. The other officers were already present, as well as the often overworked Flo.

"What are you talking about?" Callahan said from behind his desk. Powell remained silent, his lips pressed thin and a look of angry defiance beset his features.

"Not much of a news man eh, Callahan? What about you, Powell? You catch the news last night?"

"Yeah, Chief, I saw it." Powell crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Hmm, what'd you make of the big headline? Because all I could think about was  _ how _ this news station knew so much about an ongoing investigation."

"Investigation? What's there to investigate?! We have an eye witness who's scared for her and her child's life and we have a vulnerable populace that had  _ no idea _ the killer was still out there, they didn't even know a killer existed!" Powell stood up now, his voice rising with his body. His hands clenched to right fists at his side.

"That wasn't your call to make!" Hopper's voice rose to match his subordinate's

"It was the right thing to do!" 

"Give me your badge." Hopper's voice dropped dangerously.

"Excuse me?"

"You badge, now. You're suspended until further notice."

"You're suspending me for this?"

"You leaked sensitive information to the media. I can't work with you if I can't trust you." Hopper stood in front of Powell's desk his hand outstretched and waiting. The rest of the room was deathly silent as every other person present pretended to be busy with something else and not enraptured by the car crash happening in the office right now. Powell stood there for a long moment, back straight, arms taut, and jaw clenched. Then he forcefully clipped off his badge and slammed it into Hopper's waiting hand.

"Protect and serve, Chief, that's what we're meant to do."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do."

Powell nods curtly before turning around and walking out of the office without another word. Hopper's finger's tighten around the badge in his hand before he turns to Callahan, whose mouth is hanging slack with shock.

"How's the manhunt? Any news on Hargrove?"

"Uh...um…well," Callahan stammers and stutters out a short report on their utter lack of progress. After the curt and disappointing debrief, throughout which his face grows more and more grim, the Chief locks himself in his office.

"Goddamn it!" Hopper throws Powell's badge at his desk knocking the ashtray off the side. He doesn't even care at this point if the rest of the office can hear him. This is bad. He was hoping Jane would be able to lead him to Billy and he'd be able to take care of this whole mess but the situation just kept spiraling out of control. All he could think about this morning was Jane walking out there all night. He'd tried to find her, god knew he'd tried. He'd driven for hours looking but of course if she didn't want to be found she wouldn't. 

He also couldn't help but think about what'd happened to Steve Harrington. The kid had said he'd only been infected for a few days before he was transforming into a Demogorgon. Hargrove had already been on the run for a day and who knew exactly when he'd been infected. Whatever this disease was he didn't have much more time, the clock was running out and he was no closer to finding Billy than when this all started.

Jim picks up the phone on his desk and begins to dial.

"Philadelphia public library." A deep, even voice rumbles through the telephone line.

"This is Jim Hopper, I need to speak to Doc Owens."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post a week early. I've got the rest of this story all planned out now so hopefully I can post more regularly, every two weeks, but I still can't promise anything because I'm a terrible person who procrastinates all the time. For everyone still reading this, thank you for sticking with it and I hope you like where I decided to take things. 
> 
> As always feedback is really appreciated!

Max feigned sleep as she heard her mother shuffling around the room, the tinkling of her keys rang out from her huge purse as she riffled through it. Max hurriedly closed her eyes when she heard Susan’s clacking heels approaching her side of the bed. Susan sighed lightly as she bent over and brushed some of Max’s unruly hair behind her ear. Susan pressed her lips to Max’s forehead in a brief kiss.

Max cracked open her eyes when she heard her mother’s footsteps retreating. She sat up in bed after she heard the soft closing of the door to their hotel room. She sat there for a second quietly listening in case her mother had forgotten anything and turned around. Once she was certain her mother had left for good Max threw off the covers and swung out of the bed. She dressed in a flurry. She didn’t know exactly how much time she had, she needed to take advantage of any of the precious minutes she had.

There was no way she was running back to California. Not without finding out what was going on. She knew Neil was hard on Billy. She didn’t really understand why but the tension between the two was unmistakable. In her more devious moments, she’d used it to...not blackmail, but not exactly  _ not _ blackmail Billy into doing things for her. If she ever told Neil Billy hadn’t done something he was tasked with, or that he’d sworn in front of her, or any number of other little things his face got red and he’d talk to Billy in a hushed, anger-filled voice. It was useful to be able to have something like that over Billy, however limited her control really ways.

Of course, all of that was before Billy had saved Steve’s life and discovered the molding, rotten underside of Hawkins. Now that he was a part of their group going behind his back to rat him out to Neil just felt like a betrayal. Things between the two step-siblings weren’t easy but they never had been. Max wanted to like Billy. She’d always wanted a sibling. When her mom had first told her she’d be getting a big brother she’d been excited. That had lasted up until they’d actually met.

But now...now it actually felt like they were real siblings. She was keeping his secrets and he kept hers. She couldn’t be sure about Steve, about how Billy felt about Steve. She wasn’t ignorant. She’d seen boys holding hands and kissing on the boardwalk. She never thought Billy was like that. She could still picture all of the bikini-clad models adorning his bedroom walls, but the way he looked at Steve. The way he’d risked his life, something she’d never thought him capable of, to save him.

He’d never brought it up to her and she hadn’t said anything after that terrifying night but somehow they’d reached an understanding. She knew. He knew she knew and that she wasn’t going to tell anyone. She was surprised to realize that she cared. She wanted him to be happy.

It was almost a shock to realize exactly how much Billy had wormed his way into her heart, despite both of their best efforts. She couldn’t just abandon him, not anymore. The whole situation stunk of the Upside-Down anyway. For all she knew he was the one in real danger, not the cause. 

Even if he had...even if he was a…she couldn’t just leave him all on his own. There had to be a reason. Maybe she would’ve once been able to believe him capable of killing without reason or mercy but that time was gone. She needed answers and the only way to get them was to find her brother.

Max walked to the edge of the road by the hotel parking lot and stuck out her thumb. She kept her eyes open until they stung and swelled with tears before she blinked and let them slip down her cheeks. She’d almost already finished concocting her cover story when a wood-paneled van rolled to a stop next to her.

“Oh sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?”

“I-I ran away,” she paused for a hiccoughing breath and some fresh tears. “B-but I really want to go home now.” Max blubbered. The woman put her car in park on the side of the road and got out of the car. Max could hear some kids bickering in the back of the van. The woman ran to her side and held out her arms letting Max fall into her embrace. She shushed as her hand patted Max’s back.

“Oh honey, don’t cry. I’ll take you home. Do you know the name of your street?” 

* * *

Nancy races down the concrete front walk of her house struggling to put on her light jacket as her hand gets stuck in the sleeve. She finally shrugs it on as she makes it to Jonathan’s old car.

“Hey Jonathan...and Will.” Nancy’s voice raises in confusion as she spies the younger Byers in the backseat. 

“Hi Nancy.” Will says quietly from his seat his eyes downcast.

“What’s going on?” Nancy turns her attention to her boyfriend. Jonathan just looked back at her brother with a raised eyebrow.

“I got ahold of the Party.” Will paused and fiddled with his sleeves.

“And?” Jonathan prompted his brother, not unkindly.

“Dustin thought we should break into the Lab. He thought Billy might be infected with the same thing that got Steve and he said we needed to learn more about it to fight it. ‘Knowledge is the best defense’.” This last bit was said in a whistling imitation of Dustin. “They’re already on their way there.”

“Great.” Nancy sighs in exasperation. “Hold on.”

She runs back into the house shouting after Mike but when she finds even the basement empty she concedes. Why wouldn’t any of them just talk to her and Jonathan? It was dangerous around the lab!

“He’s already gone.” Nancy declares as she throws open the passenger side door. “C’mon I’m sure we can beat them to the lab if we hurry. We can’t let them go in there by themselves.”

Jonathan throws the car into reverse while Nancy buckles her seat belt.

* * *

Susan followed behind the thin officer as he walked up to the front door of her house. She clenched her hands at her side to stop them from shaking. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. As the officer turned the handle and opened the door she couldn’t help but picture Billy’s gore-stained face from smiling back at her. She sucked in a quiet breath she hoped the man escorting her couldn’t hear.

The house was empty. The overhead light flicked on unnecessarily. The house had always gotten a lot of natural light. That was one of the things she’d been sure to ask for when they’d gone house hunting. It seemed so silly now.  _ I want a living room with big windows to let in plenty of natural light, oh and laminate floors so it’s easier to clean up the puddles of blood. _

Her eyes flicked to the dark red stain by the couch. It was dry now. And dark, darker than she thought it would get. It looked like someone had tried to do the bare minimum of cleaning it up. Would it come out with a liberal application of bleach or would the floor need to be replaced? What did it matter at this point? 

This place had never been a real home, as much as she’d tried to turn it into one. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Start over new, just their small family. Wipe the slate clean.  _ Clean _ , right. Like their baggage wouldn’t follow them, like it wasn’t building in their shadows weighing them down no matter where the lived.

In a way it was her fault. 

No, not  _ in a way _ . It was her fault. She’d seen Neil hit his boy. He’d waited until they were married to show her all of his dark depths but she’d known, somehow she’d known, what he was capable of. It was in the cold crinkle of his eyes when they argued that let you know the anger held just behind them. It was in his tight mouth that showed just how much  _ effort _ he was putting in just to restrain himself. It said ‘ _ you don’t know how lucky you are right now’  _ or _ ‘you should be grateful’  _ because at any second he could stop holding back.

She’d gasped the first time she saw her husband backhand his son. He’d taken her aside later, explained he only used violence in the most extreme cases of his son’s disobedience. He’d said Billy was a rotten apple, violence was the only tool left for a kid like that. She’d believed him. She wanted to believe him. When he was good he was so good. To both her and Max. She thought she’d finally found a man who not only could take care of them but wanted to. She’d been soo happy on their wedding day she’d cried. Max had to hand her a tissue while she was still at the altar. Billy hadn’t come to the church. 

Maybe if she’d done something, tried to stop Neil when he’d gone after Billy, maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this.

“Ma’am? Are you alright?” The officer called from further in the living room. She’d been standing at the threshold for a couple of minutes frozen.

“Fine, if you don’t mind I’d like some privacy as I gather my things.” Susan said as she unstuck herself from the doorway. 

“Of course. I’ll be right outside the front door if you need me.” Susan nodded as the man passed. She waited until the door shut before moving further into the room. She tried to keep her eyes up as she moved towards the couch but she wasn’t able to stop their glancing at the grotesque stain. She swallowed hard and toed around the edge of the dried puddle. She went to Max’s room first and packed up everything she could find hoping she hadn’t managed to forget any small trinket her daughter had become unreasonably attached to. 

Finally, she went to her and Neil’s shared room. It smelled like him. The stale cologne scent hit her like a wall. It was like he’d just left for the day. Everything still in its place. Dirty shirts still strewn on the floor. She did her best to ignore it as she packed her things. When she got the closet she hesitated. Tucked away on Neil’s side was a small black safe. He hadn’t told her the combination but she knew it anyway. She’d seen him open it before, to clean the gun inside.

Susan finished packing her things quickly. She carried her bag in one hand and Max’s in the other. Her sure steps rang out through the deathly still house as she walked towards the exit stepping through the dried blood without hesitation.

She couldn’t know if things would’ve gone differently if she’d tried to stop Neil, but It was useless to dwell on what-ifs. There were no do-overs. Neil was dead. Billy had killed him and had more than enough reason to come after her and Max next.

She wasn’t going to let that happen.

The officer held the front door open as she carried the bags outside and started to load them into her car.

“Oh, Mrs. Hargrove-” He stammered as she worked.

“Mayfield.”

“I’m sorry. Mrs. Mayfield, before I forget the coroner hasn’t released the body yet but he wanted to know how he could reach you about funerary arrangements?”

Susan’s hand tightened over the suitcase straps creasing the fabric. “A simple burial at the local cemetery is fine. No ceremony. Do you have a pen? I’ll write the address they can send the invoice to.”

Susan scribbled her parent’s address onto a loose receipt from her handbag and handed it over. She knew they’d let her and Max stay with them until she could get back on her feet again.

“This is in California.”

“Yes. I’m moving back there with my daughter. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to head back to the hotel. Have a nice day officer...Callahan.”


End file.
